


Firecracker Wishes

by Pidonyx



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Gen, M/M, Multi, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Party Poison (Danger Days), Oh jesus, THE KILLJOYS ARE NOT MCR, Warriors AU, but dr d and newsie are even more just mentioned, for the record I was encouraged by the members of the danger days 18+ discord ily guys, in case that wasn’t obvious since i made them cats, jet and pony are mostly just mentioned, oh god this is so stupid, uh i didn’t edit this i’m just shooting from the hip, uhh the funpoison is background there’s even more background starpony, well the important thing is that I Had Fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:08:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29605731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pidonyx/pseuds/Pidonyx
Summary: Cobraclaw has a problem. StarClan willing, he may be able to solve it.
Relationships: Agent Cherri Cola/Kobra Kid (Danger Days), Fun Ghoul & Kobra Kid (Danger Days), Fun Ghoul/Party Poison (Danger Days), Kobra Kid & Party Poison (Danger Days)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 7





	Firecracker Wishes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DoubleMastectomy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoubleMastectomy/gifts).



> ahahaha in case it wasn’t incredibly obvious i used to be/still am a warriors kid. yes i larped warrior cats on the fourth grade playground. yes i wrestled my siblings at home and called it “training”. and YES, i hissed at people regularly. we exist <3
> 
> anyways this is so dumb like so so dumb BUT i had so much fun trying to replicate the warriors style of talking and googling dumb shit like “can cats cry” and “warrior clans slang” so i hope you guys enjoy this too
> 
> tbh i probably wouldn’t have posted this if it weren’t for the encouragement from salem/@theultravs/doublemastectomy in the discord so thank u king ur a legend <3 mwah
> 
> title is from action cat by gerard way (GET IT)

Cobraclaw carefully picks his way over the sleeping forms of his clanmates, heading for the den entrance. He doesn’t have far to go, since he’s a fairly new warrior, but it’s almost moonhigh and he really doesn’t want to be caught sneaking out of camp. He steps cautiously over Ghostfur and Poisonfang, in the pine needles and moss right at the very edge of the den, ear twitching when he notices Poisonfang almost curled completely around his best friend, thick russet tail tucked over Ghostfur’s nose against the cold. Cobraclaw just keeps himself from rolling his eyes.

As soon as he’s out in the hollow, fluffing his tawny fur in the late leaf-fall air, he makes silently and swiftly for the bramble tunnel out of camp. He keeps his ears swiveled, stepping lightly on the dried leaves and needles, but he doesn’t hear any movement from the clan cats, and moves easier once he’s left the camp walls. Cobraclaw picks up the pace a little, trotting through the marshy ShadowClan territory.

The tunnel under the Thunderpath is wet at the bottom, hollow space amplifying the sound of his pawsteps. It smells like carrion and rot and it’s almost a relief when he lifts his muzzle to scent the air and tastes the distinctive smell of WindClan blowing in from the circle of moonlight ahead.

He keeps low to the ground as he emerges, feeling exposed and nervous on the open moor. Cobraclaw startles when a rabbit bounds out of the brush, darting through the grass. He can’t even tell himself to relax, because he’s on another clan’s territory in the middle of the night. If there was ever a time to be on edge, this is it.

It’s worth it, though, when a familiar silhouette appears at the crest of the next hill. Cobraclaw breathes a sigh of relief, rising up just enough that his form is visible where he’s crouched. The other cat’s tail raises in acknowledgement, and then the shape of them is gone, swallowed by the darkness. Cobraclaw knows they’re headed for him, though, and waits.

Sure enough, Cherrytail emerges from the bracken a few moments later, sleek brown tail held high. Forgetting caution for a second, Cobraclaw darts forward, pressing his head to Cherrytail’s shoulder, purring.

Cherrytail licks his ear, smoothing down wind-ruffled fur, and curls his tail over Cobraclaw’s back. “Hi,” he says softly. “Glad you could make it.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Cobraclaw replies, honestly. He bumps the top of his head against Cherrytail’s broad flank again. “Was really worried Poisonfang might notice me leaving, though. Or maybe not. They’ve been a bit distracted, lately.” He puts extra emphasis on the word “distracted”, and Cherrytail’s whiskers twitch in amusement. He presses up against Cobraclaw’s side, winding their tails together.

“I missed you.”

“Me too.” Cherrytail smells like the moors, when Cobraclaw rests his head against his neck, wild and free, with something like berries underneath — probably from the medicine den — and, of course, the undertone of WindClan. It’s a reminder of exactly how much they aren’t supposed to be doing this. Cobraclaw pushes that feeling down and leans closer in, pressing his thick coat against Cherrytail’s glossy one. “Tell me about how you’ve been. How’s Fawnpaw?”

It’s nice just to be curled up against Cherrytail’s side, listening to him tell stories about his apprentice, about the WindClan medicine cat, Vulturefoot, and the trouble his sister Swiftbreeze’s kits have been causing for him. It’s not just body heat and fluffing up against the wind that’s making Cobraclaw feel warm, and he basks in it while he can.

In turn, he tells Cherrytail about Jetstripe’s promotion to deputy just last moonhigh — “you should hear about it at the Gathering next week” — about his sibling and their hopeless attempts to tentatively get Ghostfur’s attention — “by any means necessary, and I mean any. Last patrol he fell into a ditch on purpose. Nearly twisted his paw for real. Think they were trying to get him to help them back to camp so they could be with him alone, which of course wouldn’t work anyways, ‘cause they won’t even  _talk_ to him about it” — and his new apprentice, Sunpaw. His chest puffs up when he reaches that part, and Cherrytail’s amber eyes warm with pride.

“That’s great! You deserve it, she has a great mentor,” he purrs, sounding just as excited for Cobraclaw as he is himself about having an apprentice.

“Thanks,” Cobraclaw says softly, pressing his muzzle to Cherrytail’s shoulder, over a deep scar where some warrior moons ago raked their claws across it. He gently rasps his tongue over it, and Cherrytail seems to pick up on his troubled thoughts because he nudges his nose against his pelt in return. “I love you,” Cobraclaw says under his breath, like the moor winds would carry the words off if he said it any louder.

“I love you, too.” Cherrytail’s voice is soft, and he leaves one last comforting lick on Cobraclaw’s shoulder before he gets back to his paws, sighing. “I’m sorry. I wish we could see each other for longer.”

“Me too,” Cobraclaw answers, trying to hide the feeble note in his voice by getting to his own feet and shaking out his thick fur. “I’ll see you at the next Gathering,” he offers, not quite able to meet Cherrytail’s amber eyes.

Still, he feels the weight of his warm gaze like the greenleaf sun. “Yeah,” Cherrytail answers, brushing his tail over Cobraclaw’s back gently. “If Eaglestar wants me to come, of course.”

Cobraclaw presses close for one more fleeting second, touching his nose to Cherrytail’s, then bounds back towards the ShadowClan-WindClan border. When he glances over his shoulder at the entrance to the tunnel under the Thunderpath, Cherrytail is gone, swallowed up by the dark chilly moors.

He’s shaking droplets of acrid Thunderpath water from his paws, letting his claws sink into the peaty ShadowClan marshland with a sigh of relief, when someone pointedly clears their throat from the bracken next to him.

Cobraclaw whips around, fur bristling. Poisonfang just flicks their tail in annoyance. Cobraclaw relaxes, but only for a moment before Poisonfang narrows his eyes, bright red tail lashing again. “WindClan? C’mon, surely you have better sense than  _that_ _._ ” Their tone is frosty.

Cobraclaw freezes, a wave of ice-cold fear keeping his paws rooted to the ground. He opens his mouth to explain, finding his voice gone. His ears are ringing. Poisonfang hastily steps forwards, pressing their shoulders together, agitated hiss escaping. “Woah, wait a second, don’t freak out, sorry.” They nudge him, ears flattening back when he sways on his feet. “Cobraclaw. Hey. Look at me.”

He manages to lift his head, which feels like it weighs a ton, filled with swirling thoughts about Clan loyalty and exile and the shuttered, disappointed faces of his friends, of Toadstar driving him off of ShadowClan territory to be a rogue in the forest, somewhere, alone. Poisonfang’s eyes have lost their cold veneer, now filled with concern. Their whiskers twitch. He sighs, drawing his tail around himself and fluffing out the thick fur on his shoulders as they sit. “Great StarClan, don’t look like I just killed a kit in front of you. I won’t tell on you, I wouldn’t do that.”

Cobraclaw feels a little bit of the tension fall away, and he turns to give his shoulder a few quick licks, trying to smooth his fear-mussed pelt. His sibling is staring into the marshy forest, moodily flicking the dark red-brown tip of their tail back and forth. “Well?” they meow, seemingly regaining some of their attitude now that Cobraclaw doesn’t seem on the verge of bolting. “You got anything to say for yourself?”

Cobraclaw swallows, opening his mouth, shutting it, and then opening it again. “Poisonfang...I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. But...but you know why I didn’t. And — “ he sinks his claws into the soil again, trying to draw courage from the territory he knows so well. “Don’t try to keep me from seeing him. It’s not going to work.”

Poisonfang flicks an ear irritably. “I know that,” he says, testily. “I wasn’t going to.” The stiff slope of their back relaxes a little, blue-green eyes steady and holding some unreadable emotion when he looks back to Cobraclaw. “It’s gotta be worth it, though. I’ll help you if it’s worth it. Do you love him?”

Cobraclaw swallows. “Yes,” he rasps, looking away from his sibling’s intense expression and up to Silverpelt, glimmering in the near-leaf-bare sky overhead. “I do.”

“Okay,” Poisonfang says softly. “Then I’ll help you. Keep seeing him. And keeping it a secret.”

Cobraclaw slumps to the ground, relief flooding through him from tail to paws. Poisonfang’s ear twitches again, though the gesture seems more nervous this time.

“Can I tell Ghostfur?” they ask softly. “Unless —“ they shake themselves, forepaws kneading the soft earth in front of them. “Unless you’ve already told him,” they meow bitterly, muzzle slanting towards the ground.

“I haven’t,” Cobraclaw manages, weakly nudging Poisonfang’s leg. His heart is still beating fast; he shakes his head to clear it. “I haven’t told anyone. And we can’t tell Jetstripe now, not now that he’s been made deputy.”

“You could,” Poisonfang says indignantly. “He wouldn’t give you up to Toadstar.”

“I can’t make him choose between our friendship and duty to the Clan,” Cobraclaw mews wearily.

Poisonfang still looks like they want to argue, but instead, he swishes his tail back and forth again and looks away. “Whatever. Can I tell Ghostfur? Or do you want to?”

“Tell me what?” a new voice asks dryly. Poisonfang leaps to their paws like they’ve been struck by lightning and immediately starts hastily grooming the fur on their shoulders and ears. Cobraclaw just barely stops himself from doing the same, instead looking over his shoulder to see Ghostfur, usually-glossy dark fur bristling against the chilly air.

“Am I missing something? We having late-night middle-of-the-marsh rendezvous for fun, now?” He looks annoyed, and mostly cold, wiry tail tucked close like he’s trying to conserve body heat. Cobraclaw can see Poisonfang inching towards him in his peripheral, though they stiffen again when Ghostfur turns his attention to them fully. His eyes soften a little when he does.

“I woke up and you weren’t there,” he says, and then he kind of shakes himself, and pins Cobraclaw with a much more accusatory look, which  _absolutely_ isn’t fair. “You weren’t either. So.” He sits, draping the white tip of his tail around the base of his paws. “Care to explain?”

Poisonfang scoots the last few inches closer so they can tuck their tail around him, and he leans closer against their fur seemingly without noticing, not even letting his steady gaze stray. Poisonfang at least has the decency to look embarrassed when Cobraclaw gives him a pointed look that says  _really?_ but doesn’t even pretend like they’re going to move away.

He rolls his eyes skyward, letting his ears press back for a second.  _StarClan help me_ _._ Shuffling his paws in the dirt, he can’t quite meet Ghostfur’s eye when he mutters, “I was seeing Cherrytail.”

Ghostfur’s eyes narrow, then abruptly widen in understanding. “From WindClan? You two are...?”

“Yeah,” Cobraclaw mumbles, wondering if it really would be worth it to just go live in the woods by himself somewhere.

“Hm.” Ghostfur’s whiskers twitch. “Yeah, I can see it.”

Cobraclaw’s head snaps up, finally seeing the poorly hidden amusement making Ghostfur’s muzzle scrunch, tail-tip flicking back and forth. “You’re just a little bit too friendly at Gatherings.” His voice takes on a musing tone when he mews, “He’s not bad-looking, either. That sorta scarred, sturdy look? I’ll give it to you, you’ve got pretty good taste.”

Cobraclaw can see Poisonfang wilting a bit, so he quickly draws a paw over his ear, changing the subject. “Thanks. But, uh. You’re not gonna tell anyone, right? Nobody knew about this before tonight. I’m kinda worried about more cats finding out.” He shoots a look at Poisonfang when they draw up and open their mouth like they’re about to argue. “Even if it’s you guys. It feels way more dangerous.”

“Poisonfang was right,” Ghostfur says, pressing a little closer into their shoulder, not noticing the way their fur nervously fluffs up just a bit more. “We aren’t selling you out, duh. We can help you. Run interference if you need it, help you get to see him more, maybe. I dunno, we can try at least.” A little bit of the irritation returns to his expression when he tilts his head to the side. “Have a little faith in me, maybe? I care about you. We,” he gestures to both himself and Poisonfang with his tail, “both care about you. We want you to be happy. So we’re gonna get you to him somehow, okay?”

Cobraclaw blinks, swallowing the surge ofunexpected emotion rising in his throat. “Thanks,” he murmurs. Ghostfur steps away from Poisonfang to bump his head against Cobraclaw’s shoulder affectionately.

“Of course. What did you expect me to say? ‘I never want to see you again?’ C’mon, you’re my best friend.” His voice softens towards the end, and he licks Cobraclaw’s ear comfortingly. “I promise things are gonna be okay.”

Cobraclaw squeezes his eyes shut tightly. “What if we do get caught, though?” he wonders, just barely above a whisper. He can’t hide the nervous shake to his voice, the way his paws are trembling under him.

Ghostfur bumps his shoulder again, more firmly. “Then I’ll leave with you,” he says, decisively. “I don’t want to stay with ShadowClan if they kick you out just for being in love.”

“I will too,” Poisonfang says, and even with his eyes closed, Cobraclaw can smell their familiar scent as they press up against his other side. “Toadstar can shove it,” they joke weakly, and at that Cobraclaw can’t keep a watery laugh from leaking out.

“So much for Clan loyalty,” he mutters, but his tone is warm, and he can hear a laugh rumble in Ghostfur’s chest. His tailtip flicks against Cobraclaw’s shoulder.

“Thanks,” Cobraclaw manages to murmur, after a pregnant pause. He opens his eyes again, to the darkened pine forest and marshland, blinking quickly a few times. “Thank you, guys. You have no idea how much this means to me, y’know.”

“I think I have some idea,” Poisonfang mutters under his breath. Cobraclaw doesn’t acknowledge it, but gently cuffs the back of their head with his tail where Ghostfur can’t see it. 

Ghostfur shivers. “StarClan’s kits, it’s cold out here. Not that I want to break up our little heart-to-heart here or anything, but do you think we could head back to camp soon? I’m freezing my tail off out here.”

Cobraclaw rolls his eyes good-naturedly, and heaves to his paws. He shakes himself to get rid of any dry needles and dirt stuck to his thick pelt, and when he looks up again, Poisonfang has their shoulder pressed up against Ghostfur’s again, though they aren’t looking at him, and their ears are tilted bashfully backwards. “Thanks,” Ghostfur murmurs, and rubs his face along their neck happily. Poisonfang looks even more embarrassed, if it’s possible, tail flicking nervously when he sighs and purrs, “You’re so warm, I’m jealous, I wish I had a coat like yours right about now.”

“You’re welcome,” they squeak in a pitch twice as high as usual, and Cobraclaw can’t keep himself from rolling his eyes again, though he intervenes to keep his sibling from having a coronary right there on the spot and having to explain that to the rest of their clanmates in the morning.

“Alright, c’mon. Let’s get back to camp before even more cats notice we’re missing.” Ghostfur and Poisonfang fall into step beside him, weaving silently through the familiar undergrowth that leads back to the ShadowClan camp. Before they’re in earshot of the camp, though, Cobraclaw pauses. “Thanks,” he says again. “I...I really couldn’t ask for better friends. It — it means a lot to me that you’re willing to stick with me.”

Ghostfur purrs in amusement, dark amber eyes warm on his. “Mousebrain,” he says fondly. “Of course we are.” He swipes playfully at Cobraclaw’s shoulder with sheathed claws. “You couldn’t get rid of us if you tried. Now let’s move, there’s a nest back at camp that’s calling my name.” He punctuates that point with a sharp yawn and a roll of his lean shoulders.

Poisonfang brushes their coat along Cobraclaw’s as they make their way the few fox-lengths back to the bramble-lined entrance. “It’ll be alright,” they mew softly, echoing Ghostfur from earlier, the cat in question having already bounded ahead to check that no one had missed them while they were out. Their tongue rasps comfortingly over his cheek. “Promise.”

Cobraclaw leans into their familiar weight, focusing on placing his paws one in front of the other. “I hope you’re right,” he murmurs in reply.  _ StarClan willing, this’ll all turn out . _

*

Cobraclaw presses through the brambles surrounding ShadowClan’s new camp. The gentle pull of thorns along his fur is a slightly bittersweet reminder of the home they left behind, but the clan has been settling into their new territory at the lake well, and the warm green-leaf sun peeking through the pine boughs overhead and dappling warm patches across his back as he bounds across the clearing with his fresh-kill has him feeling hopelessly optimistic.

Especially so when he spots Cherrytail lounging by the medicine den, cheerfully sharing tongues with Jetstar and Coltsplash. His dark tabby coat is glowing like a brand of flame in the slant of sunlight he’s found —finally starting to look glossy and healthy again, Cobraclaw notes fondly, after the Clans’ harsh journey from the forest territories.

He selects a plump mouse from the fresh-kill pile, intending to join them himself, when someone calls his name from the other side of the camp. He turns to see Poisonfang, bright tail held high in greeting. “Good hunting?” they ask when he’s padded over. Foxkit is tumbling with a spare ball of moss in the dust at their paws, and they take a second to quickly lick the top of her head, whiskers twitching when she squeaks in protest.

“It was,” Cobraclaw confirms easily, fondly watching his niece creep up on the moss ball again, pouncing on it with a kit-sized war cry and subsequently rolling head-over-paws again. Poisonfang gently nudges her back to her feet again, purring in amusement. She sets her sights on the tip of Poisonfang’s tail, instead, batting at it with her white paw, her own russet tail sticking up in the air. Cobraclaw lets out a purr of his own at her antics. “I see she’s keeping you on your toes.”

Poisonfang gently rolls Foxkit over with one of their forepaws. She squeals and jumps to her feet so he’ll do it again. “Not really,” they say, eyes sparkling as they roll her over a second time. “I was out all morning on border patrol. I only just took over so Ghostfur could go out with Poppynose’s hunting party.” They growl softly when Foxkit claws up and over their back to settle between their ears, nudging her side gently with their nose.

Cobraclaw feels warm watching them together. He flicks his tail at Foxkit, having a hard time hiding his amusement when she leaps paws-first off Poisonfang’s head, leaving them shaking their ears from the impact. “C’mon, squirt. Let’s give your parent a break, huh? Wanna come eat with me and Cherrytail?”

Foxkit looks up at him with wide, excited amber eyes. “I get t’ eat with Jetstar  _an_ _’_ you  _an’_ Coltsplash  _an’_ Cherrytail?” Her downy pelt is puffed out in enthusiasm and from her tumble in the dust, making her look even more like a dandelion puff that got caught in the wrong end of a pile of soot. Cobraclaw’s whiskers twitch.

“Sure do. You can split with me an’ Cherrytail, okay?”

“Okay!” Foxkit bounds after him, with every bit the energy of a kit cooped up in camp with an approaching apprentice ceremony looming on the horizon. “When is Sunspots getting back? She promised t’ teach me a _real_ warrior’s hunting crouch! An’ I haven’t seen her  _all day_ _._ ”

Cobraclaw gently bats her ear with his tail. “Later this afternoon, little scrap. Patience. Do you know how important patience is as a warrior?”

Foxkit puffs up her little chest, scrambling after him. “Very important! I can be patient.”

“Good,” Cobraclaw says fondly, and nudges her along towards the group by the medicine den. She purrs happily and bounds forwards.

“Uncle Cherrytail!” she squeals, clambering up on top of him. “Cobraclaw says I get t’ eat with you today!”

“I can see that,” Cherrytail answers warmly. He catches her scruff in his teeth when she wobbles and threatens to fall, settling her gently back on the ground. Jetstar  _mrrow_ s  in laughter, hastily covering it with a cough. Coltsplash flicks them with aer tail, two-toned eyes narrowed fondly in Foxkit’s direction. Cobraclaw shakes his head, smiling. She really has the entire camp wrapped around her paw. Not that Cobraclaw can blame them.

Foxkit sets off chattering with Jetstar and Coltsplash, waving the white tip of her tiny tail to emphasize something or other, and Cobraclaw watches her for a moment, feeling that warm squeeze in his chest again, before turning back to Cherrytail.

“Hi,” he says softly, tucking in to Cherrytail’s side and nudging the mouse in his direction. Cherrytail winds their tails together, pressing his muzzle to Cobraclaw’s shoulder with a purr.

“Hi yourself,” he says back. Seemingly content to hold off on eating for just a little bit longer, he starts carefully grooming the fur on Cobraclaw’s ears and shoulders. “Did you just get back?”

“Sure did,” Cobraclaw sighs, letting his eyes slip shut and shoulders loosen under Cherrytail’s gentle touch. He leans even further into his partner’s warmth, and it kind of hits him, all of a sudden.

He must go still because Cherrytail pauses, nudging the edge of his ear with his nose. “You alright?”

Cobraclaw doesn’t suppress the purr rising in his chest, leaning closer to nudge Cherrytail’s cheek with his own muzzle. “I’m great,” he says, and he means it. He opens his eyes to see Cherrytail there with him, puzzled amber eyes soft and open and close, and purrs again, stronger. He presses their foreheads together, opening his jaws to drink in Cherrytail’s scent, undertoned with ShadowClan, now, not WindClan. “It’s just a really good day, is all.”


End file.
